WHOO. This took a long time to get done. This is over 3000 words! I think that's the most I've ever posted in one chapter. I had so much fun writing this, but at some point you're just ready to be done, aha.
Part 18: Return
Dib flipped through the movie options for the seventh time. Most of the day had been spent watching them. Dib made a mental note to get his bike out of the garage and peddle Zim to his house so they'd have a backyard to lounge in. He thought another moment and changed his mind. The park would be better. And while showing Zim the plethora of movie genres humans had, along with his favorites, Dib had to admit he was beginning to get bored. It was already dark out, so he wasn't going anywhere. He'd overpacked his movies in preparation that Zim wanted to see them all. He didn't know whether he should be pleased he was right. His legs had started to fall asleep after the third option.
Zim, on the opposing end of the spectrum, was still rearing to go. Dib couldn't blame him. He was in the last stages of his PAK's healing process. He wasn't in the mood to move much at all. Dib finally decided on a movie and set it in to play. He sat on the couch with Zim, putting the bowl of popcorn in his lap. Zim grimaced at it. It was the second bowl Dib had made, filling the base with the smell. He chomped down at it as the DVD loaded.
"I'm saying again- it's technically a snack food for humans."
"IT has no sugar or enough carbs for Zim to want to try."
Dib shrugged. He looked between them to where Gir was sucking on a lollipop. He wasn't sure what Zim did while he was at school without him, but he was fairly certain he'd been adjusting Gir's energy levels. He'd been much calmer while Dib was over. Dib chalked it partially up to how Zim had figured out ways to distract the robot for most of the day.
"And what is this one?" Zim asked. Dib smirked.
"It's called 'Alien'. One of the best horror sci-fi films ever made. I know, I know- the name is obvious for what it's about, but it's one of the best movies of all time. A staple," Dib explains. Zim scoffs.
"Contrary to what you think, Zim likes this concept. It is right to fear alien species you don't know about," Zim says. Dib eyes him curiously.
"I mean, yeah. Some of the newly discovered species here on Earth are some of the deadliest there are. It's not too far of a stretch for us to assume it'd be the same for aliens."
"It's not an assumption, it's a fact," Zim says. "Irkens, for example. We conquer planets on a regular basis. Many species kill when meeting another. It is a way to re-establish themselves in what you humans call a 'food-chain'. Except this is on a universal scale for sentient species."
Dib laughed. Zim threw a pillow at him. It bounced off onto the floor. Gir gave an excited yell and opted to move to it instead. Dib took the free seat, moving to the center. The movie was started to pick up. Dib had seen it so often he played it as background half the time. He turned his attention to Zim instead.
"Hey, I have a question."
"Don't you always."
"Don't sass me," Dib teases. "Ok, so I was pretty freaked when I saw your PAK… performing unconscious surgery. That alone is pretty…. Well, anyway. Do Irkens have to worry about a PAK doing something wrong? Like humans for example can be born without correct inner anatomy. Some of us have heart defects, so they're treated differently in surgery. Or need surgery to continue functioning. Do Irkens have that or do you… not allow that?"
Zim picked up the uneasy tone, his antennae twitching. He took his eyes off the movie, making contact with Dib for only a second before he looked away. "Zim is assuming you are implying that we exterminate them?"
Dib sighed heavily. "I didn't want to say it like that, but yeah."
"On the contrary."
Dib sat up, surprised. "Really?"
"Yes. Diversity is a given in any species. Irkens found ways to make it work. If somehow born without all our limbs or defective limbs we simply apply artificial versions. Be it separate entities to the PAK or the PAK acts as our legs and or arms. Though, Zim will admit Irkens with limitations such as that are rarely military or Invaders."
"Why not?"
"It is more difficult to construct convincing disguises," Zim states, as if it were obvious. Dib sourly admitted to himself if he'd thought it through that'd be a possibility he'd come to. He pursed his lips.
"Ok, I can see that being the case. Tak's disguise was holographic, though. It can work for some of them, I'm sure," Dib argues. Zim nods.
"That is true. However, an Irken born without their lower half would be hard-pressed."
"Wait that can happen?!"
"Rarely. They were a very intelligent Irken. They got the Control Brain's permission to augment their PAK to suit their special needs. These kinds of innovations cause Irkens to be less afraid of being injured.… still hurts," Zim grumbles. Dib chuckled.
"That's the motivation to not get hurt," Dib says. "Okay, next question. Do you have different colored eyes? You have red and Tak had purple, are there any others? Humans have hues of browns, blues, greens, and greys."
Zim thought a moment. "There can also be semi-yellow, blue, or green. That was an easy question, Dib-stink. You're getting complacent."
Dib hummed. He enjoyed the movie in silence until the end. He hesitated getting up, letting the credits roll. Zim stretched, the first time Dib had seen in the entire marathon so far. He swung his legs. "How's the guard?"
"Hm? Ah, Zim had forgotten about that nuisance. He is recovering well. To the point Zim could possibly return him home within the next… 24 hours."
"Can I come with you this time?" Dib asks. Zim shoots him a glare. Dib throws his hands up, ready to catch whatever projectile Zim decided to toss his way. "Just to make sure he gets inside safe! You've already learned your lesson, I don't have to worry about that. I hope."
"DO NOT INSULT ZIM!" Zim screams, throwing the pillow he'd been using at Dib's head. It hit its mark, sending what popcorn he had left flying for Gir to enjoy.
Dib heard the robot taking what scattered around the room before he had time to even remove the pillow. He sighed. He'd have to get up regardless if he wanted more popcorn. He threw the pillow back at Zim as he passed by, laughing.
He was shutting the microwave's door when he heard Zim get up from the couch. Dib turned to lean on the counter, expecting to find Zim shifting through the DVDs. He yelped when he turned and saw Zim's red eyes instead. Dib moved over, leaning on the counter to keep his balance now.
"Zim has a question now."
"Ugh. Ok. Don't do that again. You walk like a cat. I can't even hear you sometimes."
"That is just how Zim walks. Zim wants to know: what is the purpose is of scaring yourself? This 'horror' genre you seem to enjoy so much. It serves no purpose to Zim. You do not use it to train yourselves."
"Uh, well. Mostly it's just fun," Dib says. "Sometimes it can be fun to get scared when you know it's coming. Same reason haunted houses are popular, I guess. Though, some psychologists are wondering if we're using the fictional scenarios to plan what we could do in similar situations. Like a learning process. But most people just do it for fun."
"It is... 'fun' to scare yourself?" Zim asks, clearly perplexed. Dib's face flushed.
"It sounds stupid when you say it out loud…" he says. Zim waved his hand nonchalantly.
"Zim may not understand it, but the base idea he can see the use of. Zim admits these movies have been 'fun' to watch," he says. Dib gives him a concerned look and Zim laughs at him. "Not because of the human deaths. The creativity Zim admires. Some of the creatures in them look very similar to conquered species in the Irken Empire."
Dib blinked. "Wait, really?!"
"Mm. Emphasis on 'similar'. They are not exact," Zim explains. He turns to go back to the couch. Dib noticed the microwave had stopped popping and took his snack out. He was salting it when he came back to the room to see Zim had already set in another movie. He fell onto the couch, settling in.
It was half way through this movie, at a slow juncture, that Dib clicked his tongue to get Zim's attention.
"Yes?"
"Is it safe to remove the PAK? Since it's a life source for you? What if it needs repairs, or gets an upgrade?" Dib asks, eyeing the device. Zim shifted in his seat, the prolonged stare making him uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to admit it.
"It can detach for short amounts of time. Ten minutes is the maximum time an Irken can survive without one," he explains. "Human biology is much more fragile. You die if one major organ is removed for too long."
"Zim, your PAK is essentially the most major organ I think you have," Dib counters. "I can live with less of my intestines or a missing kidney."
"…Fair enough."
"So… how does it work? PAK removal. What if a repair takes more than ten minutes?" Dib asks. "Is there like a secondary life support you can hook up to?"
"Yes, in Zim's base. The system would perform the basic functions of the PAK until extended repairs are done. There is a smaller unit in every vessel and Irken uses. PAKs sync when reattached."
"Hm. Also like a computer. You could be a cyborg if there was more metal."
"What's a cyborg that's mostly biological called?" Zim asked, only vaguely interested.
"I'm not sure there is a term," Dib says, digging into his popcorn.
He started kicking his legs, watching the slasher film hit the climax. Zim was laughing at the more overdone deaths, and Dib wasn't sure whether he should join in or be concerned. He was picking the next movie.
Dib was shuffling the movies, shoving aside ones they'd watched in favor of something new. Zim had taken some of the movies, putting them in their own pile as his favorites. Dib had made a note to get him copies, if nothing else so that he could keep his own. He heard Zim hum and stand.
"What?"
"Zim was just notified the Guard is ready to be brought back to his own home. Would you like to accompany ZIm?"
"Get a free ride in your Cruiser? Of course!"
Dib abandoned the DVDs, following Zim to the lower depths of his base. He saw them pass by the cells and into a lower level. He looked at Zim, confused.
"Zim must grab something, first," he explains.
He holds up a hand to shush Dib. The doors open and Zim made his way quickly to another room. Dib could hear Zim rummaging through the drawers of the room he was in. Dib looked around the hallway. He hadn't been in this level of the base before. Doors were marked by Irken writing, labeling them, but unreadable to him. Zim emerged from the room and dragged Dib back into the elevator.
"Hey, what floor is this, I haven't seen it before."
"Zim stores inventions on this level," Zim says. Dib looked at the device in his hands.
Zim was tinkering – no, adjusting – a small device that had a chord on one end and a screen. It was slightly bulky, but Dib could have hidden it easily in his back pack. He didn't have to ask what it was for. The guard was going to have to forget his last few days here. Dib stared at it wearily.
"Will it hurt?"
"Does it matter? He will forget it."
Dib furrowed his brow. He understood Zim's logic, but that didn't help. "Zim."
"It should not be… too painful. He will have a very bad headache for several hours, but will be unconscious for most of it," Zim explains. Dib grimaced.
"Zim, I'm not sure I'm okay with that."
"Zim didn't say you had to be present during the operation. He will have no memory of this, and your local police will come to whatever conclusion they see fits. He'll have nothing to refute it with," Zim explains.
"But the school thinks he's been out sick this whole time, can't it be left a that?"
"Has anyone heard of him the last few days?" Zim asks. Dib faltered. He hadn't considered if the school would call him.
"So, what, we drop him off at home and just leave him to draw his own conclusions?" Dib asks.
Zim nods, finishing tinkering with his device. When they hit the cells Dib hesitated in the elevator. Zim walked ahead without him. Dib jumped on his heels, opting to just stay put until Zim called for him. He regretted leaving his phone upstairs.
Then he heard the cell door click and taps on the walls from what he could assume were Zim's PAK legs. He braced himself when he heard the guard begin yelling profanities. He covered his ears when he started to scream. It didn't drown the voice out nearly as much as he was hoping it would have. Eventually, the sounds died off and he was left in silence again.
Zim, in contrast, had a fight on his hands. He had expected it. He had taken his approach to the cell with stealth in his mind. The guard had been sleeping when he reached the cell. He reached out and unhitched the latch. He rose up on his PAK's legs, maneuvering into the cramped cell. He waited until he was entirely in the cell to drop onto the man.
Immediately, the guard began yelling at him, screaming profanities. The guard flailed wildly, swinging to hit anything in his range. Zim held him down at the shoulders, taking the Wiper in hand and setting it at the base of his skull. A press of a button and the guard was just screaming. Zim had had the forethought to pre-program the days he was to forget. Zim doubted he'd able to keep the man from trying to fling him off long enough to accurately input the days in his condition. Soon, the guard was wearing himself thin. Zim only had to struggle with him for a few moments before he passed out completely.
Dib carefully drew his hands away from his ears. The hallway was quiet. He took a step out of the elevator, ready to fall back in if he had to. Still nothing. Finally he worked up the courage to walk further down the hall, recalling where he had to go to find the guard the first time. He was two cells away when he heard Zim grunt.
"Dib-stink!"
Dib sighed and kept walking. "What?"
"Grab the Wiper, Zim only has so many arms," Zim says. Dib rounded the corner to see him hefting the guard up over his shoulder.
"Uh, should you be lifting that much weight yet? …How can you lift that much weight?" Dib asks, ducking beneath the guard's legs and grabbing the device. It had been tossed to the corner. He was grateful that there wasn't any visible blood, but knew better than to think there had been none.
"Irkens are strong," was all Zim gave him as he left the cell. "We're taking the elevator to the base level. We can drop the Wiper at the kitchen."
Dib followed him to the elevator. Zim squeezed in, dropping the guard. Dib stepped inside, pinning himself against the wall. It was hardly enough room.
"Maybe remodel the elevator," Dib teases. Zim shoots him a look.
"Are you going to insist I make a habit of kidnapping? How out of character for you, Dib-stink."
"Wh- hey, don't twist my words!"
"Don't give Zim the opportunity," Zim says with a smirk.
Dib went to kick him and hit the guard's leg instead. Zim laughed boisterously as Dib fumbled to apologize to the unconscious man. His apology only made Zim laugh harder. When they reached the living room Zim was still wheezing. He had to catch his breath before he could hoist the guard back up.
"Should I prep the Cruiser?" the computer asked.
"Yes."
Dib followed Zim up the stairs, flashing back to the blood he'd seen when he had arrived days ago. He pushed the thought out of his mind. He was certain Gir had cleaned it up for Zim before Dib had arrived the next day. He tossed the Wiper onto the table as they passed. Zim used his PAK's legs to carry the man up the stairs. When they had reached the top the Cruiser was already up and running.
Zim deposited the guard into the cargo bay. Dib took a seat on an outcropping in the main cabin. The ceiling opened as Zim took his seat and started their lift off.
It was surreal to watch the ground beneath him zoom past him once Zim had decided on an acceptable height. It was surreal to keep expecting it to get further away and knowing it wouldn't because this wasn't a plane. Dib was stuck, eyes out the window, the entire trip. Buildings looked close enough to jump onto, even though he knew that doing so would sooner cause him a broken leg.
He hadn't even noticed when they had reached the guard's house. Zim found a spot in the backyard to land. He opened the bay doors, rolling the guard over into the grass. Dib snorted, walking to the back of the Cruiser.
"No, no, no. We're at least putting him on the porch," he says. Zim groans at him but lifts the guard regardless. Dib followed them, making sure Zim set him down gently. Once satisfied Zim rolled his eyes at Dib, stalking back to the ship. "You'll thank me when his chance of hypothermia lower."
"Zim really did not care," Zim says, booting up the Cruiser. Dib sticks his tongue out at the alien, taking his place back in the ship.